#that's such a lame explanation for 10 i'm sorry

[waitmyturtles]

Emotionally, 23.5 (episode 10) is like a cheaply made puzzle, where like, the edges are cut roughly, so like, you THINK that you have the right pieces next to each other, but when you smush them in, and they don't fit QUITE smoothly enough, you're like, oh maybe there's another piece, but like, you CAN'T find another piece that works, because like, the piece you have in your hand IS the piece that is the right one for the picture you're making, or like, you THINK it is, so like, you keep smushing the pieces together, and you THINK the puzzle makes sense, but you kinda feel like you have the wrong piece, or worse, you're MISSING A BETTER PIECE, because everything's NOT QUITE JIVING.

I hope this post made as much sense as the emotional journey we attempted to take with the script in this last episode. What the FUCK is this script doing to Ongsa? A little more context, some smoother edges, would be really helpful here!

[winterserra]

Small collection of the best (and worst) one liners from Leon S Kennedy in Re4r. This is my personal list, ranked.

Best:

Number 1 goes to "Oh, I'd ask for a refund." No explanation needed. 10/10 hilarious

Second Place: "We all have names." Come on Leon, upset that the cute Spanish boy isn't flirting with you right now? I know it sucks when someone you thought only had eyes for you turns out to be an attention whore, but still. Jealousy is a good look Leon.

8/10 cracked me up but not like telling someone they needed a refund on their ultimate power.

Third: "Sorry didn't realize that was yours" This one had me rolling just solely because it was unexpected. I didn't get a screenshot of it but it was also tied with "sorry I'm a one woman kinda guy" which was also during this fight. Props to the writers.

8/10

#4: "You were right about the animals" First of all, rude Leon. That man had a family and was--- joking. The way he delivered this nailed it for me. A+

6/10 not too funny but pretty witty.

Worst

Alright this might get a little controversial. So there are only 2 screenshots on this list, but there are 3 entries. I lost my screenshot due to my Xbox deleting it (thanks microsoft) but the least worst of the group is:

"Look at these busy little bees. Better be careful not to get stung." This is embarrassing. I can't believe he said this. Like it hurt my soul to listen to him.

5/10 makes me laugh but I'm not proud of it.

Second worst: "Time for the teacher to be taught" Bet his loser ass thought this was hilarious. It's so lame. It's not the lamest thing he's said, but it's pretty up there. When trying to sound cool, maybe refrain from saying this one.

4/10

The worst of the worst for me: I'm not typing this one out. It's too long. But this delivery is spot on, just the joke is waaaaaay too long.

0/10 kill me this is so embarrassing. Still not as bad as the kumbaya delivery in the og but come on.

Think there should have been another on this list? Tell me your thoughts. Shoot me a message and I might just make another one.

[kiefbowl]

I find these articles unconvincing, not least of which because they are articles and not the study themselves, and journalists often do terribly conveying scientific studies to general audiences.

on higher earners: this article was written in 2013, so it is already 10 years old.

economists are notoriously bad scientific researchers, often right leaning and thoroughly convinced they are objective because they "believe in numbers."

this article barely explained what "painless penalty" means, and yet it's more important than "beauty premium" already damaging the argument of pretty privilege. Then the article goes on and says this is hardly measurable for women...so to what end does this article serve to convince women that pretty privilege is actually real.

The only explanation of how the research was conducted. I can't even tell what they did. Did the researchers do the interviews? Were these in person? Taped? What were the interviews about? Were the photos of the same people they interviewed? How many were there? How young? How white? What were their backgrounds? Were they all Australians? Where any of them indigenous? Did they have college education? Did any of them grow up poor? What were the controls?

And the scale was a 6 point scale?? To measure attractiveness? Doesn't seem very robust.

Who cares. This last sentence of the article gives us a hint that this study probably was an exercise in conservative confirmation bias, as tons of economists' studies are. Of course this study hints that for women their beauty rarely effects their income and also poor ugly men can't pull any women...lame.

Anyway, I found this "study." It's not a research experiment, it's a meta analysis of only two data sources. That's nonsense, sorry. I'll be honest, didn't read the whole thing, because it's 17 pages, but here it is if you want to read it.

Jesus Christ. So these economics took a survey from 1985 where interviewers under the employ of Roy Morgan rated the person they were interviewing as either super hot or super ugly or you know kinda normal. Sounds like bad science...because it is bad science. What is Roy Morgan Research?

It's like the equivalent of America's Gallup Poll. These aren't scientists, they are marketers. So two economists did a meta analysis of only two data sources, one of which was a 1985 market research product? Okay. And their final studies show that being attractive matters more for men than women? This is just nothing burger.

on better grades:

Again, got a couple of economists.

I will say, this at least has more promise in the reporting. We have a gesture at a control, so that's nice.

But who rated the attractiveness?

Nope never mind this is stupid. The article doesn't even mention male students (although, I'm getting around a paywall by going into a read view, so it might be cut off I guess).

They recruited a "diverse group of people" (what - 10? 100?) to rate the attractiveness based on the students' ID Photos. What, like when they were 18 year old incoming freshmen? Are these underclassmen? Are we talking about grad students? I have no idea.

And then the results are sooo minimal. So at one University who's demographics are 50% white, 30% hispanic or latinos, and every other demographic barely even hitting the the 5% mark, six thousand of it's projected 35K student body might have gotten slightly better grades if an unspecified number of "diverse randos" rated them attractive based on their student ID photos? Were they even in different classes with different professors? How do we know we're not just measuring the unconscious racism of one dick asshole professor?

so I went and found the study

Again, caveat, I didn't read all 17 pages of this thing omggggg but let me just point out to you with 2 seconds of googling I found that both Julian and Peters were faculties of this university at the time of this study. Oh yeah the diverse group of randos have no ties to the university, but the economists researchers do...curious!!!! Anyway:

Again, this is based on a light skim and some quick ctrl+F-ing, feel free to read the whole thing to correct me, but 2/3s of their data is taken from economics classes, the department they ostensibly work for. What even is this study.

Oh, and:

Hello????? This is literally what we talk about on tumblr...measuring beauty rituals you can opt in and out of, not material reality. Also, what in the fresh conservative hell is this anyway. Is pretty privilege based on washing your face or what. "Better haircut" who, "getting braces" what.

And the results are mixed between different sexed professors. Of a study that only finds the difference in grades to be like...1 to 3 percent.

on not buckling your ugly children up in your moving car (I can't believe this exists):

I'm sorry, this sentence is ambiguous, is this telling me researchers rated chidren's physical attractiveness on a 10 point scale? It was either them, or the parents. Perhaps we're not measuring the attractiveness of children, but the psychology of parents willing to rate the attractiveness of their children at all. Unless of course, it's researchers rating the attractiveness of children, which in that case, what the fuck.

The eugenics vibes of it all. Yes, I'm just throwing out accusations without looking into it, I don't care at this point.

whomp whomp. like we've been arguing, maybe we are just measuring a different marker, like wealth. this counterpoint is literally in the article.

Sorry, I can't take this seriously. This is literally measuring misogyny. It's showing not only boys being favored over girls, but mothers favoring children over fathers. Whatever weird correlation they got from attractiveness of children either by parents willing to rate their children's attractiveness OR adult researchers rating attractiveness of children seems almost irrelevant at this point. "although the researchers were unsure why" yeah okay.

Anyway I couldn't find a PDF, but I'm pretty sure I found the abstract:

I think this is one of the worst scientific abstracts I've ever read. The variables are enormous and the data is only from 398 children. How, HOW do you control for this. Was it always one parent? Was it always one kid? Was a father running into a store with a two year old to buy some coffee and milk treated the same as a mother of four trying to do a full week's shopping with all her kids? Were these people selected and given instructions or were they just observing random people from security footage?

If anyone can find a PDF of this please send it to me because I will read 300 pages of this. WHAT is this stupid ass study??

I'm sorry to my long time mutual who I'm reblogging this from, but we need far, far better examples to support some kind of feminist analysis of pretty privilege.

I think what we’re seeing with pretty privilege discourse is a lack of comprehensive language to discuss these female issues, which is not the fault of women it’s an ongoing problem women will always face. Language will always be a forefront issue for feminists or at least it should be in my opinion. I encourage young women to always think about how conventions of language and a lack of vocabulary works against women discussing the realities of living as women, and take encouragement that women have every right to create what they need to make their language(s) work for them. We can invent words and expand or narrow meaning as needed. The important thing is the truth of the matter:

do we want to stand by a principle that women can be objectively more beautiful than other women? does this idea benefit men in any way? how do we discuss nuance of different women’s experiences without giving credence to misogynist ideas? What is the most important definition of the word “privilege” that conveys the most useful meaning that we should agree upon?

think really hard about these questions if you agree that “pretty privilege” exists…think really hard about whether this conversation is happening with the conventions of male language and male propaganda because there is something lacking to discuss it with understanding between women, maybe even intentionally so.

[impishtubist]

Questions 29 and 10 for the nanowrimo asks! (this is copkillerlupin's main btw)

Omg hello!

10. What is the main character’s biggest false belief about the world?

I am going to be deliberately vague with this one, but it's that he believes something his family built has one function, while it actually has another...

29. Say something nice about yourself as a writer.  What do you do well?

asldkfjalkdfj I cannot do this one, I have nothing nice to say about myself as a writer. I do not know why any of you read my stories 😂 I guess sometimes I'm able to successfully make readers sad? That's all I've got going for me, really.

[from this nanowrimo meme]

[faethraziel]

My board

I miss the old times back in 2017 when we used to do these grid boards for our friends and we thought everyone who knew how to make one was cool af and a "tumblr girl/boy". anyway i made this one in celebration for my new (@) blog name which comes from nothing specific but it has a nice sound and i love green so it fits i guess. here thy explanations:

[and no this is not Slytherin board btw. folks know how to make a nice aesthetic board but i haven't watched/read the hp series so ;-;]

in - no special - order some stuff i really love:

1st pic: dark green All Star 10/10 flawless (sorry Vans, im a all star kinda person)

2nd: a green car because classic cars are classy af and why not have one

3rd: there you have a hippie pic and hippie's groovy. just thought it was cool and represents the whole boards in a single pic

4th: it's a bunch of old biology books i suppose im not sure but they're green so

5th: THE Pale Green Marble. i didn't see it before but it's actually really pretty and i wish i could have a bathroom with that marble on the floor and walls

6th: a lime green guitar cause we all know im not the best vocalist but at least i know how to play the guitar and luckily one day i'llchave friends to harmonise with me around a fireplace

7th: it's a vinyl. better quality better aesthetic and tbh cd's are lame so we should just buy vinyls instead.

8th: idk which stone is that, Pinterest was not specific but i know for sure they're used in rituals to clean chakras and it has a place on the board because the whole spirituality thing about stones and chakras amazes me and im a believer of healing through rocks so why not. i have a bunch of crystals myself.

9th: the last one we have an emerald or as so Pinterest says it is. I'm mot sure though and it's there because...i couldn't find something else so i just placed it there for aesthetic reasons/purposes.

(I can make one of these for you if you will. just let me know ;)

- Eli.

[manikrege]

I reached out to the kid I bullied in school. It hurt like a bitch.

Moving places makes you realize how badly humans need closure. How hard we strive for the chapters of our lives to open & end neatly, one by one. And how much we hate cliffhangers, incomplete pages, or vague endings off the screen.

I tried to seek my closure yesterday. Because I'm moving away from the neighborhood I grew up in. Don't worry, it's nothing I'm going to miss. School sucked for me, as it did for most 'studious' kids.

Fat, nerdy, weird, and a bit on the 'girlish' side, it was like this boy entered the class wearing a cap that said, "Your new favorite target." Of course, the cool kids ganged up & left me broken. I felt all alone like a wet puppy abandoned in the rain.

So like a dog, I learned survival, the ugly way. I bit back, chewed on smaller prey. And before I knew it, became the very thing I hated the most. A bully.

Roy, let's call him that, had the same awkwardness that had made me a target. His only disadvantage was that he didn't want to fight back. This allowed me to slowly strangle him, one taunt at a time.

It started out as lame jokes that you'd expect from any teenager. Calling him "gay," laughing at his curves, making him feel unwanted. This graduated into mild jabs & punches. And then finally, one day, the five of us spent 2 straight hours 'roasting' him, stepping on every last piece of his self-confidence that we could find on the floor.

Turns out, he'd had enough & his father was at my door with an audio recording of what we thought was sublime standup comedy. I felt ashamed but cried victim, pushing the blame back onto him. Tit for tat.

We stopped playing with him after that day. He had become a traitor. I don't know if he found that liberating. And if he did, I can't imagine how fucked up that would be ... feeling happy to finally have no one you can make memories with.

I went abroad and forgot about Roy. Until yesterday when we were packing up and I saw him pass by. Something snapped. Like an ice cube being run down my neck.

As someone who has been through so many changes in the last few years, I felt an urgent need to prove to myself that I'm no longer the person I was years in 2014. I wanted to leave this shithole behind for good.

So I messaged him on Facebook.

Dear Roy,

I won't ask if you remember me because I know you do. I just wanted to say I'm really sorry for how I treated you.

There's no explanation. No my side of the story. No excuse. And they weren't just harmless jokes.

I bullied you badly and caused you a lot of pain. Practically ruined your childhood. And I don't know if you're doing better. I hope you are.

You didn't deserve any of the shit I gave you. I did it because I felt powerless myself and needed something to fill that hollow space in my days.

We moved out yesterday & I wanted you to know that I'm aware of my mistakes and although I can't change the past, I am working to heal, both myself and others. I'm part of some NGOs that help poor kids in Majiwada. I do regular activities to put a smile on their faces.

Again, I know this isn't enough or even related but I hope someday you can forgive me. Even if you can't, I understand. And I really wish that you find love, happiness, and peace wherever you go - yes you do deserve those things. I was wrong.

Please let me know if I can do anything for you.

Thanks.

He responded with that "blue thumbs up" icon. That's all. I didn't push it, either. We didn't have a heart-to-heart conversation to go over everything. I'll probably never see him again or know how he turned out to be. It just is.

So did I get my closure? As I unpack in my new room, I'm not sure if it matters anymore. Because I think human relationships are much messier than we let on. You cannot just file them into chapters.

Sometimes they'll end abruptly.

Sometimes they'll reappear again and again, unexpectedly.

And sometimes you'll find new meanings every time you go back to old pages.

More importantly, you cannot just erase the damage you do to people. You cannot say sorry hoping everything will be forgotten and forgiven. The harsh truth about scars is that they never really heal.

But someday someone will look at those scars you caused on people, and madly fall in love with them. Someone will find that pain beautiful. Someone will turn it into a source of strength and love. And you can take the first step towards making that happen - by just saying one word.

GET TO THE POINT- If you think you hurt someone, you're right 9/10 times because we're hardwired for empathy & kindness so the moment we give in to hate, our mind sends us a small hunch. So just say you're sorry. Not "sorry if I hurt you." Not "sorry but it wasn't my intention." Just. Fucking. Sorry. Own what you did. It means everything.

DON'T FORGET IT- Yes, it's best if you repent asap but even if it's 10 years later, admitting to your fuckups is the right thing to do.

DON'T EXPECT AN OK- Your sorry is about you choosing to become better. For the person in front of you, it represents lots of trauma, heavy baggage, and painful memories that they've probably suppressed or internalized. So they may not forgive you or even respond. Please respect their privacy & feelings this time. And move on.

Trust me, this was one of the hardest things I've done as an adult. That said, I think we all did stupid things when we were kids. I think we were all MADE TO DO stupid things by a select few who understood intuitively how war works. I think most of us were a form of entertainment. Puppets. Dogs in a fighting ring. Dogs trying to fit in, or be liked, or just be left alone.

Just realizing how insanely toxic this entire game was ... is probably the most obvious sign that you're growing up. I know I am. I'm actively working to be truer to the kid I was before they took him away from me. And I know it's not going to be some beautiful transformative journey away from my past like they show in the movies.

It'll be ugly, too painful to bear sometimes. Because I'll meet parts of me that I hate. Parts you'd hate if you knew them. Parts that I'd rather not be remembered for. But you know what?

Sometimes, the first step in conquering your demons is accepting that they exist.

That they make you but don't define you. That you have a choice to be kinder, sweeter, warmer. And the only thing that matters is whether you have the courage to make that choice even when the whole world is giving you a billion reasons not to.

Be that one reason everyone needs to heal.

[nancykali]

Hey I donated 6$ and I hope it helps ❤ (Is there anything else we can do to help you? Cheer you up, fill prompts for you?) Can I ask for a "I picked up your bag at the airport but I can't find your number so I'm about to embark on the largest scavenger hunt of all times by using your strange belongings to track you down" AU for mike/el/will maybe? I'm not yet sure how it could work for an ot3 but I trust you and your amazing writing and I'm sure it's going to be super amazing and wonderful 😍

Mike had never been to an airport before the first springbreak of his college career. So it didn’t surprise him that he had managed totake the wrong bag off the baggage claim when he and his boyfriend Will hadreturned from their week-long vacation at Dustin’s family’s lake house.

And it just happened to be a bag with no ID tag on it. Only when taking the bag from the Uber driver’s trunk had Mike noticed the subtledifferences in the black suitcase telling him it wasn’t his. One peek in thefront pocket had been the damning second clue; it contained not his shavingsupplies, but a book titled Flight bySherman Alexie.

It had taken another two hours to find their way back to theairport, to the baggage claim office, only to discover that not only had no onereturned for the mystery suitcase, but no one had left Mike’s suitcase behind.

Will had comforted Mike on the way back to the dorm with theknowledge that at least Mike’s suitcase had his name, address, and phone numberattached. Whoever had it would have to return it. Mike tried to remainoptimistic, completely blocking out the price of the X Box games he’d packed inthat suitcase.

“It won’t be that hard to find her, she has to go to thesame college as us,” Will told him, seeing the guilt and chagrin on Mike’s face.Will sat across from him on the still absent roommate’s bed, as he and Mikestudied the contents of the suitcase in Mike’s dorm room (as hard as they’dtried, they hadn’t been able to get a dorm room together—Will’s room was eightdoors down the hall. Mike had counted).

“What makes you think that?” Mike said, his face almostburied in his hands, elbows on his knees.

“This t-shirt,” Will said, fishing a shirt from the pile ofhaphazardly folded clothes. It was bright red and had the phrase “Keep Calm andGive Blood” printed on the front in black letters, a silhouette of a “bleeding”jack-o-lantern in the middle.

Mike looked at Will in confusion, and Will answered hissilent question, “I have the same one. Remember last October, the blooddonation campaign? Everyone who donated got this t-shirt.”

“Oh, you’re right!” Mike said, perking up. He hadn’t gottenthe t-shirt, because he hadn’t donated blood. Needles frightened the hell outof him. The first and only time he’d tried donating blood in high school he’dfainted. Will was kind enough not to bring up the embarrassment, he simplyfolded the t-shirt and put it back.

“And we do have a name,” Mike said, picking up the stranger’sbook he’d set on his bed next to him. Inside the front cover, written in smallcursive handwriting, was the name El Hopper.

Encouraged by this information, the boys set off on theirinvestigation.

And quickly hit a roadblock.

There was no “El Hopper” listed as a resident at any of thedorms on campus. Not even anyone with the last name Hopper. They got the sameanswer when they found out who to contact from the blood donation campaign. Noone by that name had donated blood last October.

That same night, with Mike’s roommate still not back fromhis spring break vacation, Will and Mike settled on Mike’s bed to study thesuitcase’s contents further.

They’d turned up nothing useful besides that the owner was asize small, bought Herbal Essences hair products, and seemed fond of the colorpink—more than half of her clothes were a shade of pink, even the socks. Andthe swimsuit (“It’s a bikini, Mike. I know you’ve seen one before. You have twosisters.” “Shutup. This is different. Also you’re gay and I’m not.” Will wasstill smirking so Mike threw a pair of pink socks at him).

It was now nearly 10:00 and they’d ended up taking a “break”that was actually Will leaning against Mike’s headboard, reading El Hopper’sbook, Flight, while Mike rested hishead on Will’s stomach and played a game on his phone.

They both nearly jumped out of their skin when there was aknock on the door. Will and Mike exchanged glances, their expressions and theunspoken question in them mirroring each other. Who the hell could be knocking at Mike’s door at 10pm? Then—no way, it couldn’t be.

Mike shot up to answer the door while Will scrambled to closethe stranger’s suitcase. Mike peripherally saw Will scrambling back for thebook he’d left on Mike’s bed, before he turned back to open the door.

A girl stood there, and she looked to be about Mike and Will’sage. And there was no doubt—she had Mike’s suitcase next to her.

“Hi!” She said brightly, grinning at him. “Are you MikeWheeler?”

Mike blinked a couple times before he realized he was gapinglike a fish. He closed his mouth. “Uh, yeah.”

The girl glanced behind him, obviously seeing Will. Mikeglanced back too—Will was holding what had to be the book behind his back, hischeeks a cute shade of pink.

“I’m Jane,” the girl said, looking back at Mike, her smilefaltering. The guilt returned and Mike could feel his face reddening.

“I have your suitcase. The people at baggage claim said youmight have mine?” she said, tilting her head. She had dark shoulder length curlsthat framed her face perfectly. Mike’s face grew hotter.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, we, uh, have it. I—um—Come in. Please,”Mike said, stepping aside so she could get past him.

She moved past him and sure enough, she smelled like HerbalEssences shampoo.

Mike closed the door, then made a realization. “You saidyour name was Jane?”

She’d stopped in the middle of the room, feet away fromWill, who stood in front of El Hopper’s suitcase as if guarding it, though hecontinued to look as guilty as Mike felt.

Looking up at him (she had to be nearly a foot and a halfshorter than him) Jane nodded. “Yeah, I’m sorry there was no ID tag on my bag.I’d never gone out of town before, it just slipped my mind.” She looked down atMike’s suitcase, then back up to him. Her grin was back. “They do look nearlythe same, don’t they?”

Mike nodded mutely, then looked over to see Will staringpointedly at him. He looked at Jane, who was also staring at him. Curiously.Why did she look at him like that?

“This is Will,” Mike said, nodding toward Will, who gave atight smile and shook Jane’s hand. They exchanged nice-to-meet-you’s and thenJane added, “Are you Mike’s roommate?”

“Boyfriend.” Mike and Will spoke in unison.

“Oh, cool,” Jane said, smiling, not at all awkward orforced. Mike could literally see the stiffness go out of Will’s shoulders.

“Um, we were trying to find you,” Will said, holding out thebook Flight to her. “But the name inhere says ‘El Hopper’. Is she a friend of yours?”

Jane took the book, laughing and shaking her head. “No, no,El is me. El is my nickname. Middle name, really. I guess,” she said,shrugging. The way she said it made Mike think there was more to it, but hewasn’t going to press.

Will turned to pick up Jane’s—El’s—suitcase and hand it toher, and seeing Will was about to offer some sort of explanation, Mike quicklysaid, “We were trying to find clues. To find you. Um. That’s why your stuff isgonna be kind of…”

Jane was looking at him, her brows raised in question. Hewas rubbing the back of his neck, all but sweating now. He floundered, tryingto find the right word. Will remained unhelpfully silent.

“…Disorganized,” Mike finished lamely.

Jane’s mouth quirked. It was not the response he expected.She glanced between him and Will.

“It wasn’t that organized to begin with,” she said, laughterin her voice.

There was a few beats of silence while Jane replaced herbook in the front pocket Mike had found it in. Mike blurted out, “Is your lastname Hopper then?”

Jane’s eyes snapped up at him, this time looking genuinelysurprised. Then even more interesting—her expression became guarded.

“No, it’s Ives. Jane Ives,” she said. There wasn’t even ahint of a smile on her face anymore. Mike bit the inside of his cheek,wondering how much he’d screwed up.

Will cut in, “So that’s why we couldn’t find out if you livedin any of the dorms. We thought we could find you that way.”

Jane looked at him and nodded. “That makes sense. I haven’thad the last name Hopper for a few years. It’s a long story,” she said, hereyes moving down and away. Then she shrugged again. “I live in the dorm rightnext to you guys actually.”

“Cool! You guys have the better dining hall,” Will said,smiling at her. She smiled back, and Mike felt a pang in his chest. He wouldn’trecognize what it was until later, and then he’d be furious with himself.

“Want to meet there for lunch sometime? Mike and I havesimilar schedules, we’re free after two most days,” Will said, adding on, “Iwant to ask you more about Alexie. I started reading it, he seems really good.”

Jane’s eyes brightened. “I love all his work. I’lldefinitely rec you more of his stuff,” she said, then glanced at Mike, bitingher lower lip. Mike only had time enough to hope he didn’t look as idiotic ashe felt.

“Are you guys free after two on Wednesdays?” Jane asked,directing her question to Will.

“Definitely,” Will said.

“Okay! Well, I’ll see you guys then,” Jane said, walking tothe door, pulling her suitcase behind her. She opened the door, then beforewalking out, made a show of checking her bag. Then she gave that same grin,directed at both of them. “Had to make sure,” she said. She winked and gave alittle wave, before shutting the door behind her.

A couple beats of silence passed. Mike grew hot with embarrassment,and turned to see Will grinning diabolically at him.

“Did you just make a lunch date…for me?” Mike said, noemotion in his voice.

“Kinda had to, you were making cow eyes at her the wholetime, I had to do something,” Will said, pulling Mike’s suitcase across the roomand lifting it onto his bed.

“You’re my boyfriend,”Mike almost yelled.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m chaperoning.”

“Chaperoning?”

“Jane seems pretty cool, I want to see her again too, y’know,”Will said, unzipping Mike’s suitcase. Still not looking at him.  

Mike huffed, not replying. He couldn’t think of what to say.Will was right. Jane did seem cool. He definitely wanted to see her again, too.But why?

Then Mike saw something that made his stomach drop.

“Will, goddammit,” Mike said.

“What?” Will said, turning to him.

Mike pointed. On the floor in front of Mike’s TV stand was apair of Jane’s pink socks.